#48, Nicholas, the "German".

i met Nick on a train to Jack London Square, Oakland, CA. i was riding up from San Diego to help my sister move. It was toward the end of the trip, around Stockton, i think, when he broke off from his group of friends and walked down the aisle to my seat, eyes red and glassy, all smiles. Grey hooded sweatshirt and big jeans, short short blonde hair and blue eyes. He seemed harmless, so i wasn't too worried. He asked if he could talk to me, and i said of course! He sat next to me and asked what i was listening to (had the iPod on). Can't remember what i was, but soon he asked what kind of music do you like?, a question i dread. i like a lot of it! i offered up the iPod so he could see for himself. He got to Death in June, which is way more Nat's music than mine anyway, and just about lost it. Oh my god- i love this band, he said. Go ahead and listen, i told him. He played the song "Fall Apart", and sang along (loudly) with it. He had the volume up almost all the way, so i kept reaching over to turn it down. He was pretty happily drunk, and kept being amazed that we met, and was sad that i had a boyfriend, but ecstatic that i had this song for him to listen to, a song from a happy time way in his past. Apparently he was from Germany, moved to California (Stockton) at 16, then got put in jail for 6 years for something which he shouldn't have been, which is where he received his nickname, "German" (this was how he introduced himself to me, by the way. i had to coax "Nicholas" out of him). He was currently homeless. We all got off at the last stop, and i gave him my email address and phone number because i felt like he needed someone to take care of him, or at least to keep tabs on him. He said he really wanted to be my friend, and i certainly hoped he would contact me again.
But he hasn't yet.
I truly hope he does.

#47, Noah S.

Noah was a lot older than us in high school. Like twenty years older. Always in grubby jeans and a bomber jacket, with bad teeth and hair in a ponytail. He was cool, and casual, but also quite mischievous- one morning after my mom had left for work and all of us kids were off at school, my best friend and i made our way back to my house, where we met up with Noah, who brought 40s of Olde English (classy, right? Believe me when i say that we were not discerning, yet). We drank them right there, in the living room, until one of us (probably me) dropped theirs on the floor, where it landed straight up, leading to a momentary sigh of surprised relief. Anyone who has ever dropped a carbonated drink knows what happened next. All of the agitation that had occurred inside the bottle caused the beer to come spewing out in great freshets onto the rug. I freaked out and ran for some towels; Noah just laughed and laughed. Later, on the back porch, he told me that he would never quit smoking cigarettes, because his mother had taught him "never to be a quitter". I thought he was so clever! A few years later, when we had all cleaned up somewhat, i heard he'd had a baby. It was born with jaundice, the first time i had ever heard of that particular yellowing affliction. Hope things are alright, Noah.